Poem by Alexander Brome

To a Lady that turned her Cheek

1.

ANd why this coyness, Lady mine?
What needs all this adoe?
'Tis but a swap, my lips for thine,
A gentle touch, and goe.
Nay let such kisses still be kept,
Let him that is deny'd
Your lip, and will your cheek accept,
Lye only by your side.

2.

I hate to kiss your druggs and foiles,
'Tis flesh that I affect,
And you whose art your nature spoils,
I like not, but suspect.
Pray why's your mouth more shie than mine?
Am't I as sound as you're?
My lips let in as much good wine,
And send out words as pure.

3.

Expect no courtship more from me,
Nor words, that you, and I
May in our judgments plainly see,
Make but a ranting lie:
Leave these coy humours and be plain:
Deny, or else be free,
Look not for love, w'thout love again,
I'll kiss, if you'l kiss me.

1. To his Mistress (LAdy you'l wonder when you see)
2. The Leveller
3. Copernicus
4. To a Widow
5. The Hard Heart

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